


Open Late

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Meeting, Alternate Universe - Canon, Book 1: The Raven Boys, Developing Friendships, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: Adam turned the front light on and unlocked the garage door to open it up for this very late customer. He was not expecting the car to be Richard Gansey III’s Camaro. To be fair, he wasn’t entirely surprised to see it on the back of the tow truck. Had he not also seen it parked at Aglionby, Adam might have assumed it existed to be tugged around at its owner’s expense.The alternate meeting of Adam, Gansey and Ronan - but it's still because the Pig breaks down.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48
Collections: TRC/ CDTH Prompt Week 2020





	Open Late

**Author's Note:**

> Here's day 7, last day of the [TRC/CDTH Prompt Week](https://pynchpromptweek.tumblr.com/post/615677667456548864/trc-dreamer-trilogy-prompt-week-spring-2020)! The prompt was 'alternate meeting', and since I was still feelin' Adam pretty strongly, he's the one who came out on the page again. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!
> 
> I just want to say a big **thank you** to the folks running the prompt week! It was a challenge, it was super fun, and definitely made the end of my month amazing! Keep doing what y’all do and stay awesome!

Adam was just washing his hands in the utility sink when the phone rang. He checked his watch, quirking a brow at the late hour, but went to answer it anyway.

“Boyd’s,” he said as pleasantly as he could muster. He was tired.

“I wondered if you might still be there,” Boyd said with a hearty laugh.

Adam couldn’t really explain why, but of all the people that could have been on the other end, his boss was a relief. “I finished the Carmichaels’ Landstar,” he reported. “They should be able to pick it up in time for daycare.”

“Good work, Parrish. Listen, I know this is a lot to ask, but the wifey’s about to put dinner on the table and an emergency tow called me to see if we had room. Seems his normal place’s all booked up. Could you get the car in before you lock up? I’ll make sure you’re paid.”

Adam glanced at his watch again. If it was close, he’d still make it home before ten, and he’d be a fool to turn down the easy extra hour noted on his next check. “Yeah, sure, I’ll wait for it.”

“Atta boy. I’ll see you Thursday.”

Adam hung up the phone and surveyed the garage. Bay three was empty, one of Adam’s last appointments before he locked the doors, but he’d stayed to finish the van because it nagged him to leave it unfinished once he’d started. He turned the front light on and unlocked the garage door to open it up for this very late customer.

He was not expecting the car to be Richard Gansey III’s Camaro. To be fair, he wasn’t entirely surprised to see it on the back of the tow truck. Had he not also seen it parked at Aglionby, Adam might have assumed it existed to be tugged around at its owner’s expense. He sighed, squaring up his shoulders as the tow driver parked and got out to start unhitching it. Adam moved forward to help as the bed tilted back and the car was eased to the ground just outside the bay.

“Bless y’all for bein’ open,” the driver said, extending his hand. “The missus ‘bout to have my head for being so late to dinner.”

Adam clasped his hand, wishing he was more familiar with husbands who appreciated a home cooked meal. He vowed that, when he stepped into a life outside of this, that he was one of those men. A warm meal waiting, a welcoming pair of arms. Now wasn’t the time. He focused so intently on the safety chains around the wheels of the Camaro, that he missed a second person getting out of the tow truck’s cab until the door slammed shut.

Adam looked up. There was Richard Gansey III, in his pristine khaki pants and a brightly colored polo shirt that probably cost more than Adam’s shift today would pay him. He tried not to feel dingy,  _ less _ , in his oil streaked coveralls and faded tee with Boyd’s logo on the breast pocket. A nasty little part of him wished he hadn’t picked up the phone. He could have left Gansey to deal with not having a place for his fancy classic sports car to go overnight and, God forbid, fend for himself. Didn’t he have friends who could come get him? Adam silenced that spiteful part of him as Gansey moved toward him.

“Adam,” Gansey said, surprise in his voice.

Adam thought the surprise should belong to him at Gansey knowing his name.

“Adam Parrish, isn’t it? I didn’t know you worked here.”

_ Why would you? _ Adam found himself thinking.  _ Why would you actually care? _ He said neither of those things. “Good thing. Most people don’t stay past close until inspections. Dick Gansey, right?”

Gansey made a face. “Just Gansey, if you will. I’m extremely grateful just the same. I can help you push it in.”

Adam just blinked at him while he turned to the driver and waved.

“Be careful gettin’ home Mr. Gansey,” the driver said as he climbed back in.

“My friend will be here soon, don’t you worry, Sal.”

As the truck rumbled out of Boyd’s lot, Gansey moved past Adam to open the driver side door. He left one bronzed leg, with it’s boat shoe, hanging out while the other foot pressed the brake so he could throw it into neutral. He popped back out, so intimately familiar with this car as to be an extension of it. That was also something Adam hadn’t expected. He should have hated every minute of this, but he was instead intrigued. This wasn’t the blazing sun that Aglionby fairly rotated around, but a tired looking teenager who’s car had stalled for the umpteenth time, and he loved it just the same. Nothing about this car, or this moment for that matter, was disposable to Gansey.

“I’ll push, if you’re comfortable steering in. You know how to line it up better than I ever could.”

Blinking, Adam pulled himself out of his own head, looking at the keys dangling in the ignition, the cracked vinyl of the steering wheel. It smelled like gasoline and old books, not the sterile new car smell of other Aglionby cars, and not reeking of air freshener like the anxious moms of Henrietta liked to put in their minivans and hatchbacks. Truth be told, the car felt more like Adam than it did Aglionby, and that was a very strange thing indeed.

“Yeah, sure,” he finally remembered to answer, and slid into the driver’s seat with only a little reluctance.

Gansey bent over the front of the car and pushed. The muscles in his arms were impressively not for show. Adam focused on the direction the Camaro took into the garage, lining it up on the tracks so that it slid right into place, ready to be looked at tomorrow.

“My friend is on his way. I spotted your bike outside. We could give you a ride home for the trouble of opening back up to take the Pig.”

Gansey straightened and rolled his shoulders, stretching.

Adam’s lips pressed tightly together, as Gansey’s words sparked several things at once.  _ Friend _ was probably Ronan Lynch, and a ride home put him in Gansey’s debt. He wasn’t in danger of missing curfew, but if he didn’t leave the property until the other boys were gone, he was cutting it close. Then again, he had been here waiting. Gansey didn’t have to know that he’d already been here, working. And finally, he called his car  _ the Pig _ ? Adam shook his head, and it was more than just an answer.

“It’s fine. Glad we could help. I’m sure someone from the morning crew will call you after they’ve had a look at it.”

Adam thought he might be crazy, but Gansey looked disappointed. Something about that expression riled Adam a little. Surely he didn’t think he’d hear back before then…

“So it won’t be you?”

He blinked. “What?”

Gansey pushed his hands into his pockets. “My apologies. I assumed you would be the one working on it. Perhaps if it were you, and you could tell me how to fix it in the future, I’d have a prayer of understanding what was being said. Though considering how thoroughly you school me in Latin already, maybe not.” The disappointment had been replaced with a rueful smile.

Adam wondered if he was awake. “I don’t work tomorrow,” was all he could manage to say.

“Pity.”

Gansey looked like he would say more, but a pair of headlights cut across the empty lot, pulling up to the single open garage, its maw spilling dusty golden light on the pavement. Sure enough, the new arrival was Ronan Lynch, in his dark BMW, the bass so loud Adam could feel it under his feet. Beside him, Gansey lit up, and once more it struck Adam how strange and tight their so-called friendship was. They were the two least likely to be paired up for anything so much as a school project, much less anything else of importance, as different as night and day. And yet, here they were.

The music reluctantly lowered, and the door came open forcefully. A shaved head rose up, and fierce blue eyes pinned Gansey with a judging look. “This fucking car, man. You’re lucky I was already out.”

“Oh, come now, it was on your way back to Monmouth. I’d like to impress another favor on you. Can we give Mr. Parrish a ride home for his troubles? The Pig would be sitting in some lot overnight, were it not for him.”

That’s when Ronan seemed to notice him for the first time, and it wasn’t entirely a pleasant experience. The surprise only lasted long enough for Lynch to get a good look at him, and then he went dark as a stormcloud. Adam felt unfairly judged in the moment it took for Ronan to cuss and disappear back into the car. A second later, the trunk popped for his bike.

“That’s his way of saying he’d love to,” Gansey said, clapping Adam on the shoulder.

Adam wasn’t sure that’s what he got from it, but time wasn’t going to start ticking backwards for him anytime soon. So he made quick work of hanging the Camaro’s keys on the appropriate hook, then shutting off all the lights and sealing up the last bay. Gansey pleasantly followed him over to where his bike was chained so he could help maneuver it into Ronan’s trunk. Overlaying this helpful Gansey, with his hands covered in dust from the bike and pollen from his car hood, on top of the Gansey he thought was untouchable within the halls of Aglionby was some kind of odd for Adam. Up until this point, he’d never imagined a single moment in his life at the school where he and Gansey would so much as exchange greetings, much less have handled their most personal effects in the space of minutes after doing so.

Before Adam could offer to take the backseat, Gansey was already helping himself to it, leaving the passenger seat open for him. He couldn’t entirely be sure that wasn’t a trap of some sort. Ronan looked like a thread pulled so tight he might snap, and sitting right next to him while he was operating a 2-ton vehicle didn’t sound like the best idea ever. At the very least, Lynch had a reputation for driving fast, so he would get home on time. He buckled himself in, working on making himself as unnoticeable as possible in the BMW’s leather bucket seat. Adam thought about having a car like this, how fast it could take him out of Henrietta.

Ronan reached for the knob to turn the music back up, but Gansey’s arm shot out between the seats to smack it away. Ronan’s head turned, baring his teeth at Gansey like some kind of feral dog, and Adam’s eyebrow shot up of its own accord. He unconsciously pressed closer to the door.

“Before you turn that godawful noise back up, I simply must know. Parrish, what do you know about Welsh kings?”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello or yell at me about TRC over at [my blog](http://oldkingyounggod.tumblr.com)!


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